


turned dreams into an empire

by water_poet



Category: The Matrix (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dreams, F/M, Falling In Love, Growing Up Together, Name Changes, Prophetic Dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 22:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20217151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/water_poet/pseuds/water_poet
Summary: Fantasy AU where Trinity dreams of the protagonist every night.





	turned dreams into an empire

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I like the Matrix very much and also magic so that's what this is

She's seven when the dreams begin.  
  
She doesn't remember the day before - something about the twin brothers tackling each other in the hall - but she does remember knocking over the glass of water by her bed. The glass broke but Trinity watched the water spread along the hardwood floor, dipping into crevices and cracks, almost glowing with the light of the moon as it poured in from outside.  
  
The boy in her dreams is pale, almost porcelain. When she sees him, even then, sitting on the floor, fidgeting with an assortment of wooden blocks, she's almost afraid to touch him for fear he might shatter.  
  
"Hi" she says. In this place, her voice echoes.  
  
The boy looks up. His eyes are dark, darker than the nighttime sky, but they shine like marbles or glass or the water on her floor, finally still as the moon bounces off of it.   
  
Hi" he says. "What's your name?"  
  
"What's yours?"  
  
The boy's brow creases and he sticks out his lower lip ever so slightly.  
  
"I asked first!" he says.  
  
"I asked second" Trinity counters, and the boy blinks uncertainly, momentarily defeated.  
  
"I'm Thomas" the boy relents.   
  
Trinity sits opposite him on the floor. The rug is soft and there's a pattern of buttons on it, green and red and blue.  
  
"That's a weird name" she says.   
  
The boy - Thomas, she thinks - pouts, and she can see a flush of pink coming into his cheeks to match the ever-present tint to his lips.   
  
"It's not!" he says.  
  
"Is too" says Trinity, and before Thomas can reply, she changes the topic. "I'm Trinity"  
  
"Trinity" Thomas says. "That's kinda weird, too"  
  
He points to her nightgown (It's woven from tree fiber, and there's a stain by the hem from where she spilled newberry juice on it two weeks ago) and asks, "Why are you wearing that?"  
  
"It's my nightgown" Trinity says.  
  
"Is it nighttime?" Thomas asks.  
  
"I think so" Trinity replies, but as she does so she notices sunlight pouring in through the window above their heads. It strikes her as odd, but she isn't sure why.  
  
"No, stupid. It's daytime. That's why there's the sun" Thomas says smugly, pointing to the window.  
  
"Well, it's nighttime in my house!" Trinity insists, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
_Trinity!  
_  
The voice calls through the edges of her vision, but Thomas doesn't seem to hear. He's preoccupied, arranged tiny green soldiers into a formations amidst the wooden blocks like some kind of grand cityscape.  
  
"I think I have to go" Trinity says.  
  
"Okay" Thomas replies, not looking up.   
  
_Trinity!_  
  
The boy and his shining eyes and his bedroom started to fade and Trinity wonders for a moment if she should say something more.  
  
Nothing comes to her mind, so she says nothing. When she wakes up, there are words on the tip of her tongue but she can't place them anywhere. They stay, heavy and bittersweet.  
  


* * *

  
"Why do you dress so funny?" Trinity asks.  
  
Thomas is stringing small yellow shapes onto a long string, lips pursed in concentration.   
  
"Whadya mean?"   
  
Trinity points to the boy's thick blue pants and the foreign language on his shirt. "Your pants are a weird color. And your shirt's all messed up!"   
  
"You're always wearing old dresses" Thomas counters, and Trinity really can't protest. Her dresses are all hand-me-downs from her sister.  
  
Thomas ties a knot on his string, making it into a loop. He holds it out to her.  
  
"Here"  
  
"What is it?" she asks, examining the shapes. They're not unlike the hard grain wafers she's had at home.  
  
"It's a macaroni necklace" Thomas explains. He points to a box on the table, filled with the things and decorated with colorful shapes.  
  
"Oh. Thank you" Trinity says, draping the necklace over her head.  
  
Thomas picks up another string and starts another necklace.   
  
When Trinity wakes up, the necklace is gone, but she finds a bit of crushed yellow in her hair.  
  
Her mother says it's sawdust, but she can't be sure.  
  


* * *

  
When Trinity is nine, Thomas has a black eye.  
  
"Who beat you up?" she asks.   
  
He pouts, pressing a clump of ice wrapped in thin brown paper to his eye socket.   
  
"No one" he says, and Trinity realizes what a bad liar he is. She reaches out but stops.  
  
"Does it hurt?"  
  
"No" he lies again.  
  
"You're a bad liar"  
  
"I'm not lying!" he insists, stamping his foot against the ground.  
  
There is something humorous in his childish rage so Trinity giggles and Thomas continues to pout until she feels bad.  
  
She wants to apologize, but Thomas won't look at her anymore so she sits beside him in silence until she wakes up.  
  


* * *

  
They tell her the Oracle's prophecy when she's thirteen, about the hero, the One, who will emerge from world beyond to lead the land to freedom in dark times.   
  
_\- a boy from a dream world, seen only by the seer, his guide and lover -_   
  
And Trinity doesn't talk about the dreams anymore. She hates it. She hates it because Thomas is _not_ the boy and she is _not_ the seer but she knows if she told anyone their fates would be sealed so she says nothing.  
  
"Do you think fate is real?" she asks, frowning as Thomas hangs upside down off his bed, fiddling with a small colored cube.  
  
"No. That's stupid" he says, and she's relieved because his face is getting red and there's a zit on his nose and she can't imagine _loving_ him in any reality.  
  
"Yeah" she agrees.  
  
Thomas sits up.  
  
"I want a cool name like yours" he says. "Thomas is a dumb name"  
  
Trinity agrees but she doesn't say so.  
  
"What about Morpheo?" she suggests.  
  
Thomas wrinkles his nose and the zit gets redder. "What does that mean?"  
  
"It mean leader, idiot" Trinity says.   
  
Thomas jumps off the bed and kicks at the carpet. He's got on a tie and a sweater, and Trinity looks at the logo on the left side.  
  
"Whatever. I'll come up with something" he says, and Trinity just shrugs.  
  
She continues to think of names.  
  
"Vorbin" she says one afternoon while Thomas folds paper airplanes out of lined paper.  
  
"Gross" he says, and she wonders if she should tell him it means ugly.  
  
"How about Fasynn?"   
  
It's snowing outside and they're staring out the window together as Thomas's backyard turns from green to white.  
  
"Sounds like a girl's name" he says.  
  
It is, but Trinity only says, "Zutyr"  
  
Thomas bites at a hangnail, wincing. "Too spacey"  
  
"Aisquin?"  
  
"S'alright, I guess"  
  
It takes him three more months to decide, and at some point Trinity becomes bored of having her suggestions rejected so instead she offers her own feedback.  
  
"Keva" he says.  
  
Trinity almost chokes on her laughter, and Thomas rolls his eyes, scratching it out on the pad of paper on his desk.  
  
"Ren"  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
"Neo"  
  
Trinity pauses. Thomas looks up, hesitant. His hair's gotten long and it hangs around his jaw like a curtain.  
  
She's pretty sure she knows the word. But she can't place it. So she says, "Not bad", and Thomas grins sheepishly.  
  
When she wakes up, Trinity asks her mom what neo means.  
  
Her mother frowns. "Where'd you hear that?"  
  
"A book" she says, which isn't technically a lie - she still remembers seeing Thomas underline the name, written in his blocky handwriting.  
  
"It's from the older version of the prophecy. The first translation. We don't use it anymore. It means chosen one"  
  
Trinity stays up that night. When she finally sleeps, Thomas tells her to call him Neo.  
  
She doesn't want to, because fate is breathing down her neck.  
  
She agrees anyway.  
  


* * *

  
She kisses him when they're sixteen and he stares at her, shocked, forehead pressed against hers. He's taller now, not so boyish about the face.  
  
"How'd you do that?" he asks. "You're not...you've never been..."  
  
"What?" Trinity breathes. Her mind is dizzy and hot and she wonders why they haven't done this before, why this feels so _right_, -   
  
"Real" Thomas says, and it's a bucket of cold water because she's known all along but she loves him anyway, her dreaming boy.  
  
"Not yet" she says.  
  
He has questions, but she has no answers. The war has been hovering malevolently on the horizon for three years now, and the people are waiting.  
  
She still hasn't told anyone.  
  
"What do you - "   
  
She steps close to him, gently placing a hand on his jaw. He inhales sharply at her touch as she leans close.  
  
"Just wait" she says, but the next words slip out like they're not quite hers. "Follow the white rabbit"  
  
Thomas stares at her blankly, so she kisses him again as he fades away.  
  
The next day she goes to the Oracle, and there's already a seat in the main room for her and a cup of her favorite tea blend.  
  
"It's an honor to meet you, Oracle" Trinity says.  
  
The Oracle's eyes glint. "And you, Seer"  
  
Trinity shifts in her seat. "You've known this whole time, haven't you?"  
  
The Oracle doesn't respond so Trinity just drinks her tea, waiting.  
  
"Did you give him the message?" the Oracle asks.  
  
"What mess - oh. Yes" Trinity says. "I don't know if - "  
  
With a dismissive wave, the Oracle stands and hands Trinity a paper bag of cookies. They smell like vanilla, and Trinity frowns bemusedly.  
  
"The Neo will know the way, when the time is right" she says, and Trinity can't argue.  
  
She leaves with more questions than answers, and that night the first bombs are launched.  
  


* * *

  
"You cut your hair" Neo says.  
  
Trinity nods absently. "So did you"  
  
Neo runs a hand over his buzzed hair, chuckling. "Yeah. Hazing process" he admits, looking up. "You?"  
  
They're eighteen now, and Neo's somehow taller but his eyes are still like the night sky.   
  
She wants to tell him about the war. She wants to cry while she talks about the cold and the blood and the look on her father's face when her mother's sword was brought back to their house. She wants to tell him about the fire in her chest when she left for the resistance the next day with it strapped to her back.  
  
But the words are heavy on her lips and she _hates_ the prophecy and the Oracle and the war so she says, "It's just more convenient"  
  
Neo seems satisfied with the answer.  
  
"Have you found the rabbit?" Trinity asks.  
  
Neo laughs. "For an imaginary friend, you've got a good memory" he says. "I guess that's why I can't seem to outgrow you"  
  
Trinity sighs. "I guess so"  
  
Closing the book in his lap, Neo stands to put it back on the shelf. He switches it with another, holding it out to Trinity. She can't read the title, but there's a girl and a cup and a white rabbit.  
  
"This one? Bought it from a second hand store. Figured you'd appreciate it" he said, and Trinity can't help but laugh.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
Her side still hurts from her training where she'd been kicked in the side. She was cold, and she wished she could stay here, in the soft gold and green of Neo's world.  
  
"Nothing" she lies.  
  


* * *

  
The resistance grows and the people are restless. The rich pretend not to know, and the poor can't fight.   
  
Neo becomes distant. His eyes are tired, but he's still handsome, big eyes and dark hair, and he's so much more real than anything in the grime and pain of her own life. When he kisses her, she can remember the distant light of when they first met, gap-toothed smiles and foolish questions.  
It never gets better, falling asleep next to him but waking in her cot, cold and damp with a soreness in her chest.  
  
And then one night, he's gone.  
  
She knows she should be worried. But she isn't. She's just angry. But it's war, and the anger dulls along with everything else in her heart.  
  
But there's a distress call from the northern city and she begs Morpheo to investigate.  
  
"There's something there. I feel it"   
  
And Morpheo (he has another name, but it's been forgotten now), who trusts her more than he ought, agrees.  
  
The dreams continue to stay away, but sometimes she wakes with a taste like lemonade on her tongue and she feels warm again.  
  
Three weeks later, the group returns with a man, limp and exhausted. His hair is tangled and his eyes are just barely open but Trinity knows.  
  
"He appeared out of the forest" Morpheo is saying. "The Oracle says he's not from this world"  
  
The man looks up at Trinity, and the world holds its breath. She can see the questions in his eyes.  
  
_Is it you?_  
  
_Do you remember?_  
  
_Is this real?_  
  
She'll answer them later.  
  
"Hello, Neo" she says, and he smiles, relieved, warm, gentle, hands clenched at his sides.  
  
"Hey, Trinity" he replies.  
  
And maybe there's been something to this destiny thing all along.

**Author's Note:**

> You know that scene in the movie where the Oracle's first comment when seeing Neo is "you're cute"? yeah, that's big mood.


End file.
